


'til there's nothing left

by Snap_crackle_spock



Series: A myth to live by [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Right in the middle of the end fight of the RotS, post-Phantom Apprentice, ummmmm this one gets sad queens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snap_crackle_spock/pseuds/Snap_crackle_spock
Summary: “Commander,” she acknowledged, a small smile teasing her lips at the joke before she remembered why she’d called for him. Oh, how she missed the days where those moments of levity weren’t just brief and sparse. “I’m not going back to Coruscant with you.”He raised his eyebrows in shock, but beyond that remained the stoic soldier she’d always known him as. Back in her day, she and Anakin had pulled much more surprising and last-minute maneuvers. He was used to it by now. “Can I ask why? The Council will be expecting you.”“I know,” she dipped her head, thinking yet again of the twisted version of Anakin calling out like a beacon. She could feel him in the stars, traveling faster than light. “But I have to see to something first. Call it a lead that Maul gave me when they ask.”-Canon Divergence where Ahsoka arrives on Mustafar in the wake of Obi-Wan and Anakin's final confrontation.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: A myth to live by [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876624
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	'til there's nothing left

**Author's Note:**

> Ahsoka goes really hard to Bonfire by Childish Gambino. I don't know what else to tell you.

_“I’ve resigned to living a life without glory._

_I’ve resigned to living life, that’s not my story._

_I’ve been waiting for change to drop out of the sky._

_I’ve been squeezing the meaning out of one simple word: try._

_And I’m making a list of the things that I’m proud of._

_And I’m making a list of the people that I love._

_And I’m setting my limits impossibly high._

_‘Cause my life is gonna be a myth to live by.”_

**_Myth to Live By (Lizard Boy)_ **

* * *

There was no reason for Ahsoka to trust Maul. He was a liar, a Sith, a madman, and a _fool._ Of all the things he could’ve said to her to try to get her to join forces with him, going with the “Anakin has turned to the Dark Side” approach had to be the worst choice. Because if he _really_ thought that she’d ever betray her former Master like that, then he was even crazier than she’d first thought. 

But… But he’d said it with such certainty. And she knew, she _knew,_ that it was always the crazy people that were the surest of themselves, the most rooted in their beliefs. Only the truly wise had it in them to not only be open-minded, but to continue to question. Anakin had taught her that and then let her learn it for herself. 

But Maul’s conviction was haunting. His words echoed through her head, even as he was put in that box. Even as she shook hands with Bo-Katan. Even as she faced down the Council that she would’ve once worked herself into oblivion just to please. No more. Not even Master Yoda, whose transparent form still felt so present, so domineering over her. Even after creating a new life for herself, she was still in the shadow of the Council. 

They wanted her to follow orders, to escort Maul back to Coruscant, and then be out of their hair once again. She’d see Anakin and Obi-Wan, and they’d catch up. The war would be freshly over, and they’d be able to finally breathe. Maybe she would be able to get over herself for long enough to work up the courage to just say hi. Just because she walked away from the Order didn’t mean that she’d had to cut them out of her life the way she had. This would be a step in the right direction. 

_Every choice you have made has led you to this moment._

But it hadn’t amounted to anything, had it? Not for Maul. He’d been so sure that she’d join him, and he was wrong. He was sure that Anakin was not the pillar of the Light Side that she’d remembered, and he was wrong. So why was Ahsoka _still_ plagued with his thoughts? 

The truth was that there was a sense of fact behind them. Standing on that support beam –watching as clones and Mandalorian warriors worked together to harness the thrashing lunatic– she’d reached out and tried desperately to find Anakin through the Force, something she hadn’t done for so so so long. And what she found in his place was… it wasn’t him. It was twisted. Dark. If she wanted, she could chalk it up to a neglected bond that hadn’t seen attention in a year. That this was _all_ it was. 

But she’d always known him better than that. 

“Rex,” she called as she watched the clones see the Mandalorian prison cell aboard the star destroyer, the half of the 501st that accompanied her with their painted helmets of solidarity giving her a sense of home she’d been missing. 

“Commander,” he addressed, still refusing to back off of her old title. 

“Commander,” she acknowledged, a small smile teasing her lips at the joke before she remembered why she’d called for him. Oh, how she missed the days where those moments of levity weren’t just brief and sparse. “I’m not going back to Coruscant with you.”

He raised his eyebrows in shock, but beyond that remained the stoic soldier she’d always known him as. Back in her day, she and Anakin had pulled much more surprising and last-minute maneuvers. He was used to it by now. “Can I ask why? The Council will be expecting you.”

“I know,” she dipped her head, thinking yet again of the twisted version of Anakin calling out like a beacon. She could feel him in the stars, traveling faster than light. “But I have to see to something first. Call it a lead that Maul gave me when they ask.”

“They’re not going to be pleased,” Rex nodded, a small laugh in his voice. 

“Well the last time they were particularly mad at me, I distinctly remember _them_ being the ones to apologize in the end.”

“I’ll tell them you’re just being thorough,” Rex smiled, “the rest of the boys will be upset that you aren’t coming back, though.”

That was the part that actually did twist her gut. These men, the ones who’d given up their individuality, even temporarily, to welcome her back had once been _her_ men. She’d grown up with them. Fought with them since she’d entered the war. As much as Anakin was her family, they were, too. 

“Tell them I’ll be right behind them. Honestly, I’m probably chasing ghosts. I just wouldn’t be able to sit still without seeing it through.” When she saw the pride and melancholy mixing in his eyes, she gave him what she truly hoped was a reassuring smile. “And, I mean, who knows. Maybe this whole consulting thing could become… I don’t know. More regular?”

At that, he let out a full laugh, one that was happy and warm. With a final nod and salute, one which she returned, he began to make his way from her and onto the destroyer. “I’ll have the guys leave a ship for you. Don’t be a stranger, Commander!”

“Don’t give that bastard any room to breathe!” She called as she watched him disappear into the crowd of identical men. She’d miss them all, each and every one. They’d all helped shape her into the woman she’d become. And she knew she shouldn’t miss them, she should just be looking forward to seeing them again; but as she watched Rex disappear, she couldn’t shake the air of finality. 

* * *

When Ahsoka took off in the starfighter, the likes of which she hadn’t been in the cockpit of for some time, she didn’t have a planetary destination in mind. It wasn’t like she could just reach into the Force and know exactly where Anakin was headed. But… but she knew where he was. At least at the present. She could feel him Anakin traveling through hyperspace to the corners of the universe, and what was she supposed to do other than follow?

Without the navigation system reading out directions for her, instead just telling her if there were planets she was going to hit along the way, the cockpit was quiet. Nothing but the simple beeps of the ship’s various components letting her know that they were still working. She’d always hated the quiet of a solo starfighter. Growing up during the Clone Wars, she’d always been shuttled from planet to planet on destroyers that equated to small cities, with hundreds if not thousands of clones operating them. And even when she wasn’t on one of the massive ships, she would go on the _Twilight_ with Anakin and Obi-Wan. Sometimes Artoo. In contrast to the quiet and solemn halls of the Jedi Temple, she’d welcomed these excursions. Because for once, she had been allowed to be a little less of the Jedi she’d been raised to be and a little more of the child that she still was. The clones had been her brothers in arms, had created a camaraderie on those destroyers that she’d die with. 

Even on the _Twilight,_ with the dysfunctional pair that had somehow both become her teachers, it didn’t feel the same as when they were on Coruscant or attending to affairs on behalf of the Council. Anakin had always had this air of _I’m being a teacher right now_ whenever he was at the Temple, one that she recognized as performative at best. She knew that he’d wanted to be a Master on the Council since he was a kid, an aspiration she shared, but the way that he switched over to Actual Jedi Mode still stung. Because, for all the calm pearls of wisdom he tried to pass off as standard as they would make their way to the Council’s chambers, she knew that between planets he was so different. Not the wise Obi-Wan-like Jedi Master, but a guy from the Outer Rim who was willing to fuck around while the ship was on autopilot and would keep playing Sabak with her even though he was _terrible_ at it and she won every round. 

Maybe that was the thing that made her leave her mission, the fact that she knew that he was a real person. Not some pillar of impartiality that all the Jedi claimed to be, but an actual person with thoughts, opinions, biases, and drives. Drives like protecting the people he cared about, like being able to achieve his goals, like wanting justice for all the things he’d gone through as a kid. Maybe the reason Maul’s words had a ring of truth in them was that all those things were pathways to the Dark Side. 

_But he wouldn’t._

_He’d never._

It only really dawned on her then that she’d just abandoned her mission. As a Jedi, she’d been taught to follow her instincts, yes, but she wasn’t a Jedi anymore. She was an outside hire from the Council. One who’d just dropped the mission before it was even over in favor of chasing a lead she didn’t even think was going anywhere. If they were already hesitant about bringing her in after this, then leaving _again_ would be enough of a citation-worthy cause every time someone suggested she help. Because she didn’t _trust_ Anakin, she was giving up a future where they could still work together, maybe not the same but at least similar to a year ago. 

If she turned around right now, stopped chasing loose threads, and focused on her _real_ future, she could probably still catch Rex and the rest of the 501st before they made it back to Coruscant. They’d back her up if she asked, wouldn’t even tell the Council that she’d left at all. She could still do that, be pragmatic and trusting and have a future that didn’t involve striking it out on her own. 

But then she felt the barest little twinge in the Force. Not Anakin this time, though she could still hear his presence screaming in the back of her head. Instead, she felt Padme, barreling in the same direction, and the panic that was coming with her. And, next to her, Ahsoka could feel Obi-Wan, calm in the way that he only was in the midst of battle. 

That was what made her press on. Because if it was just Anakin, then she could’ve lied to herself. She could’ve just called it trust and gone back to the Jedi Temple and if things went to shit then she would’ve felt bad because she hadn’t been there for him but she would’ve known that she had believed in him until the very end and it was _his_ actions that led him there. But the mounting evidence of Anakin and Padme and Obi-Wan… That was too much for her to just deny. 

She’d walked away before. She wouldn’t repeat history. 

* * *

The Mustafar System was not one Ahsoka had traveled to before. She’d read about it sure, but had never seen it in person. In general, she’d managed to avoid the Outer Rim. Not on purpose, just a happy coincidence. Anakin had told her about it, once. About how his home planet of Tatooine was depressing and hot and how he’d never wanted to go back. So seeing him go to Mustafar, a planet not far at all from Tatooine, was enough of a red flag in it of itself. 

When she landed the starfighter, she could already tell that things had gone wrong. The small landing platform was already occupied by two other ships, one of which was open and familiar. Padme’s. Her seemingly abandoned, unlocked ship was shiny as ever, a direct contrast to the harsh reds and blacks of Mustafar. 

When Ahsoka got out of the cockpit, the two lightsabers Anakin had returned to her barely over a day ago were clutched tight in her hands. All around her the planet was giving off an angry energy; one of heat and violence and treasonous thoughts. Something bad had happened here. Very _very_ recently. 

And there, in the center of it all, was Artoo, because of course he was. The little shit always had a knack for getting in the middle of bigger issues. Just like Anakin. And Ahsoka. And Obi-Wan. And Padme. And even Threepio, though he’d deny it. But today was Artoo’s turn as he turned and started beeping at her from his spot in Anakin’s starfighter. 

Ahsoka had never been as fluent in Binary as her old Master had been, but you didn’t apprentice Anakin Skywalker for two years and not learn at least a passing knowledge of the language. 

And it didn’t take someone fluent to understand the urgency the little astromech was putting behind his words. 

_Anakin… Council… sent Obi-Wan… not good… fighting… Padme._

_PadmePadmePadme._

“Where is she?” Ahsoka asked, coming closer to him. Despite the ease with which she tracked them all here, everything was suddenly so very clouded. When he didn’t answer, she pressed further, “Artoo where’s Padme?”

_Down… hurt… Anakin._

Looking around –because what else could “down” possibly mean?– Ahsoka searched for the Senator, whom she hadn’t seen when she’d landed. Artoo was known for burying leads, but not like this. Not when it mattered. So it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise when Ahsoka did find Padme laying on the ground on the other side of the landing pad. 

A very _pregnant_ Padme, who was still breathing, thank the stars, but only just barely. 

A lot had happened in the year since she’d left the Order, it seemed. 

“Padme!” She called as she rushed over, her guard dropped because, right now, this was _all_ that mattered. 

When she reached the senator, whose breath was shallow and scarce, Ahsoka suddenly realized that this was _all real._ It could’ve just been a big misunderstanding on her part and she would be teased for falling into Maul’s trap for all time, but suddenly a half-conscious Pamde caused reality to come slamming down on her. 

_Anakin did this._

_He would never._

_But he had._

It was undignified, the way that tears welled in her eyes at the thought. She was no longer a Jedi and no longer bound by their code, but that didn’t mean it was something she’d abandoned. So not only was she mourning the fact that her Master had attacked the one person she’d _never_ thought he’d hurt, she was acting like a child because even after all this time telling herself she didn’t care what the Council or the Jedi thought of her, she was _still_ letting them down. 

So was he, apparently. 

_No_ , she thought. They didn’t get to claim this loss. Anakin had always wanted to be on the Council, but they’d never cared about him for anything more than his abilities. Fuck _them._ In the wake of every time they had reprimanded him, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and Padme _had_ been there. _They’d_ been the ones to not chide him for shortcomings but thank him for just being who he was. 

Ahsoka knew first hand that the Council was not the best support-system, that they were so very quick to turn on people that threatened their Order. But that wasn’t _all_ he’d had. Anakin was loved and trusted by those close to him. He had _people_ to go to if things weren’t good. Obi-Wan was _there._ Padme loved him, no matter how much they tried to hide it. Ahsoka had begun the process of coming _back. Why was that not enough?_

The Council could pretend to mourn the loss of a fellow Jedi to clutches of the Dark Side, but Ahsoka had to cope with a friend abandoning her. 

_How does it fucking feel? To be forced to be the one that gets left? You don’t get to act so high and mighty after what you pulled last year._

But this was different. She hadn’t hurt anyone. 

_Yes, you did._

She didn’t abandon the Jedi in their hour of need. 

_Are you sure?_

She hadn’t had people that would stand by her no matter what.

 _Don’t be a liar_ and _a deserter. One is enough._

“Ani?” Padme’s weak voice cut through her internal spiral, and suddenly Ahsoka was thrust into battle mode. The autopilot of actions she’d take for anyone felled in a combat zone. She pressed her fingers to Padme’s neck, checking her pulse, and was only slightly put at ease at its relative steadiness. It wasn’t enough. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. Stupid question. The answer was very clearly no. But asking meant Padme would respond, which meant Padme was still conscious, still breathing. She had to do something. Ahsoka couldn’t leave her here. Stars knew who else was wandering around. She was just lucky to have gotten to her first. Not first. Too late. Hopefully not _too_ late. _Please not let it be too late._ “I’m going to take you to your ship, is that alright?”

“Where’s Anakin?” was all Padme asked, her eyes never even opening all the way. At least she was light when Ahsoka picked her up, careful of her swollen belly. So much had happened without her. Crazy how life just went on. _Not the time._

On the ship, there was a small cot, one where Ahsoka placed the senator as gently as she could with what she envisioned to be minimal grace. It was hard work, maneuvering a limp body. 

“Padme, will you be okay? I’m going to find Anakin and Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka crouched down and clutched her hand. With so little strength, she felt Padme squeeze it back, which worked to settle her nerves that much more. Of all the people Ahsoka had met in her time with the Jedi, Padme had been the strongest in so many ways. Seeing her like this, weak and barely clinging to consciousness, hurt more than she’d expected. It was like seeing a mountain crumble, this infallible icon suddenly so different. 

“‘Soka?” Padme mumbled. She squeezed her hand again. “Ahsoka, what are you doing here?”

She had to _go._ If Anakin… If he’d done this, then Obi-Wan would be unleashing hell on him right now. Anakin would be doing the same if the roles were reversed. She had to go before they tore each other limb from limb. But to abandon Padme in this state… so vulnerable… Ahsoka had become good at leaving but not like this. 

“I’m sorry,” was all she could get out, and she could feel the tears welling up again. What a sad sight they made, a half-dead woman and a ghost. A shadow of a Jedi throwing a fit because she couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. Why had she been so cold to Anakin when she’d last seen him? He’d just wanted to say hi. He’d been nothing but kind. It felt like a lifetime ago. He’d just wanted to catch up and she’d given him the coldest shoulder possible. 

What if she’d never left the Order. What if she’d stayed with him and Obi-Wan instead of running away yet again, this time to Mandalore to help in a war she wasn’t even involved with. What if she’d just smiled. What if she’d said thank you. Whatifwhatifwhatif. 

Maybe none of this would even be happening right now. Maybe it was just all her fault, simple as that. 

“I’m so sorry,” She dipped her head and inhaled once, twice, then compartmentalized, “but I have to go.”

Padme didn’t say anything when she left –always leaving– and somehow that was the worst option. Because, with the raging lava around them, Ahsoka couldn’t even hear her breathing as she walked away. 

* * *

Every step killed her. Not just because she was walking further and further away from her friend and leaving her defenseless, but because every second that she didn’t find Obi-Wan and Anakin was another second that something unforgivable could’ve happened. 

She’d been joking with Rex, wasting valuable time reminiscing about the past. If she’d gotten here faster- if she’d trusted her instincts from the beginning-

She broke out into a sprint. 

She would not be late again. 

She knew she was supposed to be calm about this. A trained Jedi like herself would be able to keep a cool head while running headfirst into what was likely to be an intense battle. But she hadn’t been a Jedi for some time, and it showed in the way her jaw clenched to keep her tears at bay, the way her limbs protested not just from exhaustion and under-use but from the tightness that coiled within them. 

It took forever. Such a dangerous planet with so many moving pieces in play, but eventually she found them. It should’ve been a relief. Why wasn’t it a relief?

“You were the chosen one!” 

He seemed so far away. As she approached, she found herself slowing down. Hadn’t this been what she’d wanted? To get between them and fix things before it was too late? But looking at them, it was clear that it was already too late. Even from her distance, she could see how wrong everything looked. Anakin on the ground, crawling up a hill to Obi-Wan’s shuddering form. 

“It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them!”

His words carried across the smoldering planet, ringing off the mountains and resonating within her. She’d never seen Obi-Wan so furious. No, that wasn’t the right word. Hurt. He was hurting. 

If seeing Padme harmed had been a wake-up call then this was earth-shattering. 

The way his voice broke… the resentment and sadness and fear and anger. Ahsoka felt all of it. Not just from him, but within herself as well. Her lackluster dam she’d built to keep her emotions back when she’d found Padme was already beginning to crack. She _was_ hurt. Hurt that any of this could even be possible and not some elaborate, messed up dream. She simultaneously was drawn closer and feared intruding on such a private moment. 

_Anakin stopped getting the right to private moments when he turned his back on the Light Side. Obi-Wan would understand._

Still, she refrained. 

“Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness.” 

And then he turned to go, which was the strangest part of all. For all she’d learned and grown beyond the Order, one thing held true: never turn your back on an enemy. And that’s what those two were now, right? Enemies? Light Side versus Dark? For Obi-Wan to turn like that… It was a message. Maybe it’s not how he meant it but to her it read loud and clear. 

_I am stronger than you._

_I have beaten you._

_You are nothing anymore._

Crawling up the hill, trying so hard to get his former Master’s attention, Anakin still found a way to pull on her heartstrings, too. 

“I _hate_ you!”

It wasn’t the sound of a human. It was animalistic and raw. She’d lost. Too late. This wasn’t _him_ anymore. It was just… some _thing_ holding his body captive. 

“You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.”

_Tell Anakin-_

_I will._

* * *

Long after Obi-Wan was gone, having taken Anakin’s lightsaber and with it his last connection to the Jedi with him, Ahsoka was still rooted in her place. She couldn’t bring herself to follow Obi-Wan, who’d been able to turn away with such ease, and so instead she was still standing there on that same hill, watching Anakin struggle to climb like some horrific piece of performance art. She really, truly, _deeply_ wanted to go. Wanted to look away. If not to spare him the shame of a witness than to keep some memory of her former Master preserved in her mind. But she couldn’t. She just watched in wide-eyed horror as this flaming heap of what had once been the most important person in her life struggled to stay out of the reach of a lava river. 

What would Obi-Wan think, when he returned to the ship and saw Padme moved? Saw Ahsoka’s borrowed starfighter landed on that platform? Would he know it was her? Would he come back and pull her away from her self-torturous viewing party? Or would he leave her to make her own choices? She hadn’t exactly been kind to him the past few times they’d spoken. Would he even notice the ship at all, or would he already have moved on to the next item of getting Padme to safety? Ahsoka didn’t know which one she wanted. 

Back at that hill, Anakin let out another monstrous scream. Carnal and unbecoming. So unrecognizable as the suave and charismatic young man who could have charmed the pants off of any representative if the Code had allowed for it. 

“I know you’re there!” He roared, and she didn’t know who he was speaking to. Her or Obi-Wan or some other, unknown entity. But… stars, she was so tired of waiting for other people to tell her what to do. Join the Jedi then train as a Jedi then become this person’s Padawan then _leave_ then come back. She’d exerted her first ounce of control in that moment, and it had hurt but it was also intoxicating. Then she got sucked back in and it was travel here and fight this monster and we’ll talk when the war’s done. This one was the fight, the _only_ fight, that mattered, and she’d lost. She didn’t have to wait for marching orders anymore. 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” She yelled back, her feet finally listening and moving to get closer. 

When his head snapped to face her, to watch her approach like a phantom through the smoke, she was unprepared for the searing yellow that had taken over his eyes. She’d seen him like this only once before, back on Mortis, and even that was entirely different. Back on that hell-spawned planet, she’d seen him go to the Dark Side, but he’d still been a _person._ He’d had anger, but it hadn’t boiled over like this. He’d been able to talk and move like a normal human being. Maybe that was just a sign of the Son’s puppeteering, the same way she’d felt it before him. Still, it was strange to see such a sharp difference. Other Sith she’d seen, they’d been composed. Count Dooku had been able to talk circles around both of them, much to Ahsoka’s continuous frustration. Why was Anakin so affected?

She had so many questions. 

“What are you doing here?” He spat out. He was on fire. Turning to charcoal before her eyes. She wanted to move to help. She wanted to let him burn. 

He could’ve controlled himself, but he’d chosen this. She was enraged. She was hurt. She felt so sorry for him.

“Did you do that to Padme?” she asked as if she didn’t already know. But he needed to say that. She needed to know that he knew what he’d done. 

He didn’t respond. Just kept climbing and falling and failing. How pitiful, the Master she’d idolized for years now. 

“Why is this how it has to end?” She yelled. Obi-Wan had gotten his turn. She would get hers. “What _happened?_ A day ago you were totally fine, you wanted to catch up, you weren’t acting like a fucking lunatic.” He just kept crawling, his one metal hand whirring with the effort of supporting his whole body. How had it been so long, and yet he’d barely moved an inch. Talk about fucking poetic. She didn’t know where all this rage was coming from, but in that moment something within her just snapped. “I worshipped you! I saw you as this pinnacle of what a Jedi could be and I just wanted to achieve it! How could you have gone so far from that?”

“The Jedi are cowards,” he roared, and there was so much swimming behind his eyes. Not just the anger or the hurt, but a cry for help, “and _traitors_. They deserve to rot.”

“Don’t you think I know that? You were the _only_ one who cared whether I lived or died.” It was a simple fact. “You were the _only_ Jedi who even fought for me. Even Obi-Wan couldn’t be bothered. You risked everything just to clear my name. But that doesn’t mean we get to throw a fit and go on a murderous rampage just because we don’t _like the Jedi.”_

And that was when it clicked, the fact that nothing she said even mattered. Every single word that came out of her mouth would do nothing to bring Anakin back to the Light. When she berated him, there was nothing in his eyes that gave away even the slightest bit of regret. Not the faintest hint of remorse for what he’d done or what he’d put them through. It was far too late, the war long-ago lost, and she was just standing there and yelling at half of a man like a fool. 

Overhead, she heard the soft hum of an engine and looked up to see Padme’s ship lifting off the ground and soaring into the stars. At least one good thing could happen. At least Obi-Wan would keep her safe where Ahsoka couldn’t because she’d been too focused on joining a fight she’d known she couldn’t win. 

“For so long,” she started, barely above a whisper. This wasn’t for him. None of it was, anymore, “I’ve sat and thought about what you could’ve possibly meant when you said that you understood why I left and why you couldn’t. But now I know. It wasn’t Padme, because I’ve seen what you did to her. It’s not your honor, because you gave that up the second you turned your back on us. It’s not ambition, because you threw any chance of a future with the Jedi out the door in the most spectacular fashion. It’s cowardice. I thought you were the bravest man I’d ever met, but look at you. I couldn’t have been more wrong.” 

She unclipped the two sabers that she’d lost and been regifted. A present from a friend. A peace offering from the Jedi. A gateway back into her old life. 

She was done living for the past. 

With two quick movements, she threw them both into the churning lava river, the backsplash kicking up and falling onto Anakin. He screamed. She didn’t care anymore. This was not a creature worth her pity. This was not her Master or her brother or her friend. This was an empty shell of the man she’d once been so close to. 

“You’re not Anakin.” she bit out, verbalizing the thing that Obi-Wan had silently said, “You’re not even an echo of him. You’re all the worst things boiled over and you _took him from us_ and I _hate you_ for it.”

This time, when she turned to walk away, there was no silence that she left in her wake. There was no Anakin or Rex or Padme silently watching her as she went, wanting to stop her but understanding of her choice. No, as she walked away there were screams of rage and frustration, telling her that she was a deserter and a coward and _nothing anymore_ and each of these insults that would’ve cut her to her core a year ago did nothing but fall on deaf ears. Because they weren’t coming from her Master, whose opinion she regarded so highly. They were just coming from a sad, sad little man who couldn’t even make it up a hill.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm I avoiding working on Proved Right and the other thing I'm building rn just so I can rewrite the same confrontation that I've already looked into in like 4 other one-shots. mayyybeee. And THAT'S on being scarred for life by the fact that they never hugged. 
> 
> Anyway as much as I'm a simp for the idea that Ahsoka carries this massive amount of guilt for not being there to help Anakin and just like everything that rebels did to characterize that, I also think there's something to be said for the fact that it's not her fault. Every little thing built up over the course of the prequels, but ultimately Anakin was the one that bent the knee to Palpatine. It's complicated and messy and it's why I love these characters so much, but the fact that she pins it all on herself is tragic. And (as someone who's written a million fics diving into that sense of guilt) I thought the idea of her just tearing into him for turning was worth taking a look at. 
> 
> Anyway, whatever I'm rambling. I wrote this bc I thought that this was a scene we were going to get in the series finale (don't clown me in the comments, I'd set myself up for failure with that one) so I wanted to write it down.
> 
> ACAB <3


End file.
